The Boy Legolas
by JazzMind
Summary: Legolas was a teenager. Gods, was he a teenager. God save us, but he was a horny teenager.
1. In A Tree

Title: The Boy Legolas  
Author: NoComment  
Rating: R   
Comments: Your job.  
  
  
  
When Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood, was very small, he played with arrows, rode horses that were too big for him, and skinned his knees a lot, like all good princes. Even so young, he had an extraordinarily strong bond with the forest, and his father, Thranduil, was very proud of him.  
  
There was, however, a bit of a problem.  
  
Legolas grew, and became a teenager. A teenage elf.  
  
...this is undignified.  
  
A horny teenage elf.  
  
Elven maidens tend to be maidenly, shy, beautiful, and virginal.  
  
By the time Legolas was the rough equivalent of sixteen, a lot less of them were virginal.  
  
~*~  
  
_Anyway..._ It was a dark and stormy afternoon. Strong winds shook the branches of the elm he sat in, and rain pelted his uncaring back. His uncaring, _bare_ back. Also, his uncaring, _bare_ butt. The elven maiden that was in the tree with him was mostly sheltered from the rain. And of course, because elves don't mind tree bark, neither of them had thought to bring along a blanket or anything. Which made it really hard to convince his friend Tewar that he wasn't making out with Tewar's sister in a tree.   
  
~*~  
  
This story begins as Legolas is dumped on his horse after being stuffed back into his (muddy, they fell out of the tree) breeches, and told to come back when he is something more than a "... worthless, uneducated, immoral _child!_"  
  
People were a bit annoyed.   
  
However, Tewar's father, Deurmeade, was in a worse mood than that. This explained why the young prince literally had his breeches, the horse he rode on, and nothing else, not even a saddle or a bow. Thranduil did not disown his son. The trees wouldn't let him. If an elf doesn't listen to the trees, he isn't much of an elf.  
  
~*~  
  
There was a westerly road. It led to the grasslands of Rohan, where Rangers sometimes rode. A confused, muddy, and sexually unsatisfied teenage elf wanted to go join the local equivalent of the foreign legion.   
  
Look at it this way. At least he didn't end up with the hobbits.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I want to show how Legolas first meets Aragorn, and what they think of each other when it happens, and this is an interesting way to get it done. 


	2. Disrespect

Title: The Boy Legolas  
  
Author: NoComment  
  
Rating: R  
  
Comments: Your job.  
  
You need to understand. I am female, but this is not a Mary-Sue. I write Legolas as slash; just look at Meet Maria, Fear Anaheit. But I just couldn't resist doing this. No one has written one that _I've_ read, and I have no idea why. So _I'm_ doing it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Legolas Greenleaf, prince of the elves, was cold, dirty, and hungry. The mud had, thankfully, evaporated with the rain a few hours ago. Around him were the very outskirts of Mirkwood forest and, beyond that, grassland. He looked doubtfully at the dark-obscured waving grains. His mare, Thalami, shook her head and neighed. She wanted to go eat some of that nice-looking grass. Legolas wasn't so sure. Unexpectedly, he ached for the elf-girl he had left in that damnable tree.  
  
*They couldn't even let us finish before they sent me packing.* Another throb, and no convenient elf-girl (he couldn't say maiden; there weren't very many of those left in Mirkwood) to assuage it. Sighing, he jumped down from Thalami's back and told her to go feed, knowing she would come back. It was time to put some of that woodland training to use.  
  
*Hey, tree-brothers. Know any nice squirrels?* The trees never answered him like his father said they should; but at least he was being polite. The trees were the only things he took seriously about this "heritage." *Damn my heritage, I just want a steak!* The elves bartered with the men of Rohan for meat; only the stupid would ever think of keeping herdbeasts in an elvish forest. Honestly. There was a legend about that; some stupid humans had tried it, once. They were gifted to the trees- as fertilizer. He doubted it. The trees didn't eat human. *Eew. Who would eat human?*  
  
A passing squirrel chattered at him. He leaped straight up into the branches after it, his muscled torso flashing white in the falling evening. The small animal leapt into another tree, higher up; he followed, ignoring the leaves whipping at his arms.  
  
In the growing darkness, he could only track the squirrel by its chatter. Finally, fooled by the familiar surroundings and the chase, he leapt for a branch- and it wasn't there. Only a few feet above the ground, the fall bruised nothing but his ego and his chances of dinner.  
  
*Where the hell am I?* The trees chuckled behind his back. He whipped around to confront him. "Oh, yeah? Well, you could have warned me, you know! Told me you weren't there! You know, maybe _not_ let that stupid, tasteless rodent get away! I'm _hungry_, you know! Your bloody fault, you stupid forest."  
  
Okay, maybe he didn't take the trees _that_ seriously. But I had you fooled for a minute, didn't I.  
  
So, that is how it came to be that Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood, was sleeping with his head pillowed on his horse at the very fringes of Mirkwood, dirty, cold, half-naked, and hungry. 


	3. Arrival of the Saviors

Chapter: 3  
  
This "story" has very short chapters. So _deal_ with it. ;)  
  
LotR is not mine. Fortunately, neither is Leggylas, or you'd all kill me. This isn't R, I guess. PG-13 would cover it. Of course, not when the "it" in question is being uncovered. But enough.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Rafael, eighteen in human years, was rather confused, to say the least. Last night, his rider group had been patrolling Mirkwood's edge, making sure that there were no bandits sneaking around at the border between plain and forest. Bored orcs and renegade humans often tried to take advantage of the uncomfort felt by both species so near the blurring of what they each found familiar, and had to be periodically chopped into tiny pieces, with the more recognizable bits left on stakes to be found by the next wandering group of scum. His stallion (he was in front- twice now his handsome cheekbones had been scarred with evidence that _he_ often caught the first orc-arrow, and had to be patched up afterwards) had shied, and started businesslikely trotting in the direction of the forest. Rafael had reined in the beast, as he often did; he was mostly ignored, also as usual.  
  
Delightful.  
  
Legolas woke to the rather embarrassed whinny of his mare, who was seemingly rather happy. (A/N stallion + mare = La-la-Legolas.) She was cosying up to a rather suspicious stallion, with a rather suspiciously cute rider. He stood, knocked himself out on a treebranch, and went thud.  
  
Rafael was close enough to see a scene of abnormal clumsiness on the part of one rather gawky elf. He wasn't sure whether he should be concerned, or just give into his impulses and laugh until his sides ached.  
  
~*~  
  
He came too suddenly, and was immediately aware of aware of two things. A smell of food, and a smell of woman. In order of importance, that would definitely be backwards.  
  
In the night, interesting things had happened... albeit in a different sense than interesting nighttime things usually happen around our favorite elven handsome.  
  
He snuggled further into the piece of femaleness whose lap his head was resting on. She laughed; he could feel the pleasant heaving wonderfully.  
  
"Rafael, I think he's awake." The giggly voice was pleasantly husky, and he _knew_ that this would be an enjoyable ...interlude.  
  
~end ch. 3~ 


	4. Green Pixie

Chapter 4  
  
I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR THE PIXIE. I realize that you may really, really need to kill me after reading this and all I can say is that I'm really, really sorry.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Legolas and the rather willing Rohan-rider retreated in the direction of his temporary tent, seemingly locked together at either the lips or the hips- one of those.  
  
-One rather noisy interlude later-  
  
Teenage Legolas rolled off the sated rider, and realized something ...interesting. He realized, through the leftover haze of panting satisfaction, that there was a two-inch tall naked pixie dancing on- well, never mind. But for some reason, her "floor" was acquiring more of an angle with every step she took. As the tickling sensation became almost unbearable, he scooped her off ...him... and deposited her on the back of his neck (for lack of a better idea) where she proceeded to grumble. Although her view of the action was rather first-rate. He had almost never had to take care of himself himself, but all guys know the theory and have practiced, so things went well. Even if the pixie did seem rather disappointed to not have been able to get a taste. That may be the reason that she turned the offending dancing-floor bright green before she left.  
  
Legolas opened his eyes, screamed like a headless chicken, and proceeded to act like a stampede of bull meese. Meese being the LotR version of a plural of moose, because I've always wanted to do that. The Rohan rider, upset that she had missed many repeat performances of their mutually satisfactory... performance, cried a lot.  
  
Rafael, after seeing the young elf run screaming off into the forest, was somewhat worried about what he would find in the guy's tent. He was _not_ expecting to see his sister crying her eyes out and being comforted by a nude pixie who had apparently rolled in the green goop that puddled on the bedroll that he himself had lent to Legolas.  
  
He, after ensuring that everyone was all right, found himself a tree to hit his head against. He immediately reenacted Leggylas's screaming run into the greenery upon discovering both a very sated Legolas and a friend of his named Aragorn sitting in said tree.  
  
There are still rumors of a human that every so often will run screaming by in the forest, shouting the words "Green pixie! AAAAAGGGGHHH!!!! Green pixie! AAAAAAAGGHHH!!!!!!!" Some people hypothesize that Moulon Rouge's green faerie is a copycat, but only the insane ones.  
  
~end ch. 4~ 


End file.
